Not So Clever Without You
by DWF222
Summary: I've been given anything I've ever wanted. The TARDIS, the adventure, the stars, his love...yet the Doctor can never give me the thing I crave the most. The truth. He knows something is wrong with me, but won't tell me what. He says it's impossible, illogical. It has to do with the Master (my real father) trying to kill me. What do I do?... Ask the stars. (Sequel to Cleverest)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**So hey guys this is the sequel to Cleverest! If you haven't read Cleverest I strongly encourage you to do so! Please review and let me know what you think because I love getting feedback on stuff I can improve, or just what you think of the story! Oh yeah, I don't own Doctor Who, but I do own Elizabeth/Avani/Persephone/Felicity. - Yeah I know it's confusing, but without further ado I bring you Chapter 1. Enjoy!**

"Oh, Rose what foolish things are our men going to do tonight?" I sigh, rocking back and forth on my mother's rocking chair.

"God only knows. Where is your father?" Rose inquires.

"Old South Meeting House. They are discussing the tea issue. Father said they are going to demand Governor Hutchinson to send the cargo ship back to England," I reply, concentrating hard on my sampler.

"I see."

"He is being completely unreasonable, though! He refuses to let me accompany him to one of the meetings because he says it is no place for a woman or a child. I just want to see what it is like. I grow weary of searching the newspapers for the news of the country; I want to be a part of it. But you know how Father is, doesn't even think it is proper for Nathaniel to give me a peck on the cheek. Says it's indecent," I mutter, tapping the sampler against my palm.

"Oh you know how your father is old-fashioned. Remember he had trouble adjusting to the prospect of the colonies rebelling against England's wishes. Look at him now; he is an ardent patriot just as much as you and me. Give him time and he will come around," she promises.

"I just wish he was not so overbearing with Nathaniel. I swear every time Nathaniel comes over he makes a point to mention his shot gun in the closet, and he forces one of the maids to spy on us. No trust whatsoever," I vent.

"How are things going between you and Nathaniel?" Rose asks, smirking. I attempt to suppress a smile, but to no avail.

"Rose, you're hidden insinuations are making me blush, but I must tell you it is nothing like that. Nathaniel is sweet, and very gentlemanlike. Also he is a devoted patriot, so we can talk about our beliefs freely to each other," I answer sheepishly.

"So do you think he's going to propose?" She leans forward on the lounger, ready to listen.

"I hope, after all we have been courting for a couple months now. Father will probably make me wait a year to marry, since I am only fifteen. What about you, Rose? Do you fancy anyone?" I laugh. She giggles back, shaking her head.

"Sadly no."

"Oh come now. A beautiful girl like you surely has some suitors," I insist.

"No, no. I'm not the marrying type," she disregards. I nod, and begin to pace the floor. "How long are those meetings usually?" She questions. I smooth out my gown, keeping my nervous hands preoccupied.

"Now that you mention it he should have been back an hour ago. Perhaps he stopped at the general store for some milk," I reason. I peer out the window to the dark December night. A chill runs down my spine, and I tighten the shawl around my shoulders.

"Ah, so that is the only thing besides water we have to drink? God, I miss tea," she groans, setting her book aside.

"Hush now, it's for a good cause. If tea is to be taxed then we will have none. The tyrant will not get away with this tea foolishness."

"Yes, I know, but we do owe everything to England. I mean we did originate from there. Blimey, we just moved here two years ago. England is our home," Rose points out.

"But I do not feel it is the same England that we used to know and love. It has changed by the way of a tyrant. It has become cold to its children, and treats us differently even though we are English too. The only thing that separates us is an ocean, yet it feels much farther than that. We both have different thoughts, different dreams. We only want to be free from the shackles that bind us to the mother country. The prospect that we have to pay for the wages of war is unfathomable, and completely ignorant on their part. Why should we have to pay outlandish taxes without ever getting a say in parliament? Who are they to say that we are to pay for that expensive war without our voices being heard? What entitles them to such luxuries that we do not have the pleasure of knowing? That, my dear, is why we are rebelling against the home that gave us everything. That is why we are rebelling against the home that is now taking everything away. Who are we not to fight back? And lastly who are they to say that we are not permitted to do so?" I respond passion and determination enveloping my tone. Before Rose can rebuttal my opinion, the door comes flying open.

"Felicity, get behind me!" Rose warns. We have heard stories about redcoats invading houses for a place to stay while they are deployed in the colonies, but the tales always ended badly. We soon see Father hurry into the house, and let our guard down.

"Mr. Smith you just about gave us a heart attack," Rose scolds as I come out from behind her.

"Nope only me. Now Lissie, go to your bedroom and retrieve your paints I bought you for your birthday last year," he orders, removing his suspenders. He pulls his shirt over his head, and removes the suspenders completely.

"Father, what are you doing?" I exclaim, completely shocked about his disrobing right in front of Rose and me.

"The paint, off you go," he ignores. I hurry off to my bedroom, and retrieve the paints that he asked for. I set them down before him, intrigued what he will use them for. He dips his fingers into the jars, and starts to draw lines across his face with the red paint and white paint. His bare chest is exposed, and I shift uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"What on God's green Earth are you doing?" I demand.

"Having tea at the Boston Harbor," he chuckles.

"Oh no," Rose murmurs to herself.

"What do you mean?" I question, now averting my attention to her.

"He did always mention pushing tea crates into the harbor, and I thought he was joking," she laughs to herself.

"Rose, who is _he_ and why would he push tea crates into the harbor?" I persist.

"It doesn't matter," she sighs.

"Why?" She runs her tongue over her lips, and I see her eyes glaze over with tears.

"Because you," she starts, but falters, "…you will never remember."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Review, review, review! :D**

"Oh Rose, I'm sure I could if I tried. Why don't you try telling me?" I suggest, trying to ease the pain in her eyes.

"Later. When things aren't so chaotic," she assures, wiping the tears away from her eyes.

"Very well. Father you are going to get caught, and perhaps hanged for treason if you go through with this terrible act!" I stutter. He wraps a strand of cloth around his head to top off the ridiculous costume.

"That is why we are wearing disguises so that the redcoats won't be able to recognize us. Darling, it will be fine. Do not worry. Now you and Rose best be off to bed, it is getting late. Goodnight," he bids with a warm smile.

"But Father-" I begin.

"Goodnight, Felicity," he ends in a firm tone. I bow my head to the floor.

"Yes, sir," I sigh in defeat. He exits the house and the second the latch locks I sprint toward the window. Once I am sure he is a reasonable distance away, I rush to the coat rack and retrieve my plum bonnet.

"Felicity, what are you doing?" Rose questions as I tie the ribbons around my chin.

"Going out."

"Where?"

"To the Tea Party of course."

"Mr. Smith told us not to go out, though!" She reminds.

"Now you're catching on." She gives me a disapproving look, and I roll my eyes. "Technically he said that we should go to bed, but he didn't specify when. So really we are doing nothing wrong. Besides what could go wrong?" I bend the truth.

"Well, we could get captured and killed by redcoats, or get caught, screamed at, and then killed by your father," Rose replies bitterly. I wave it off.

"Are you coming or not?" I resolve. My hand falls on the door knob, and she crosses her arms in indecisiveness.

"It's completely mad, but that has never stopped me before," Rose mutters, snatching her crimson bonnet off the rack.

"Excellent. Allons-y!" I conclude, heading out the door.

* * *

"Quick, onto the lounger! Act like you fell asleep waiting for him to return!" I squeal, knowing Father was sprinting home from the infuriated redcoats. Rose and I jump onto the lounger, stretching out in a way that two sleeping adolescents would. I close my eyes, forcing them to relax as to look as real as possible. I hear the door creak open, and the clank of boots padding against the hardwood floor. My heart swells with hope as I hear them become fainter and fainter toward the hallway, but all is lost when a silent pause falls over the room. Only the crackle of the fireplace, and the heavy breathing of Father can be heard. The footsteps approach the lounger, and he lets out a light laugh.

"It seems my daughters have fallen asleep waiting for their Father," he states a little too loud to be believable. He has caught on, but I was never one to give up so easily. Both of us remain still and keep our faces emotionless in order to maintain our charade. His boots tap impatiently against the floor.

"I know you followed me up to the Boston Harbor. Do you really think I didn't hear the rustle of those bushes, and the constant whispering of the two of you bickering?" Father admits. He is bluffing. No movement, no giving up. "Lissie you were wearing the new plum bonnet that I told you _not_ to wear until church on Sunday." He would not have known that unless he saw us. Father is not going to let this one slide. He is not going to give in to us this time. My eyes flutter open, and I prop myself up with my arms.

"Father, we just wanted to see-" I start, but he holds a hand up. He then points in the direction of our bedroom, his face stern.

"Felicity. Rose. Bed. Now."

"Yes, sir," we reply in unison, taking off toward our oasis. I slam the door shut behind us, locking the door for good measure. If he tries to yell/lecture us, he will have to do so through the thick wood of the door.

"How upset do you think Father is?" I inquire casually, slipping out of my ankle-length dress.

"Upset? The Doctor never-" Rose begins, but stops herself. My scrunch up my face in confusion, and cock my head to the side.

"_The Doctor_? Have you been snooping through my journal?" I question, trying to control my temper and tone.

"Journal. Show me this journal that you have," she orders, a look of realization and surprise falling over her soft features. I cross my arms in defense.

"Don't pretend that you don't know. You must have snooped through my things to know that I've been having dreams. Odd dreams," I huff. A bright smile that I have never seen before appears on her lips. She runs over to me, and clutches my shoulders tightly.

"Show me the journal. I need to see it," she demands. I shake my head.

"No, you betrayed my trust. Goodnight," I snap, blowing out the candle on the bureau. I hop into my bed, pulling the nightcap over my head. She sighs, and relights the candle to illuminate the room.

"Then it looks like I'm going to have to dig through your stuff to find it," she declares. I clench and unclench my fists in anger, but refuse to move from the bed.

"When my father took you in, I knew there was something different about you. A bad kind of different. You talk about things that are impossible. You speak about such mad things so lightly like you have seen them before. You are a temptress. Trying to coax me to believe your Satan driven ideas. You have even got him stowing away in my dreams. Whispering lies into my ears every moment of every day. I have been writing all of them in that journal of which you speak, and I can assure you that you will never find it. You can tear up this room floorboard by floorboard, but you will always turn out empty. So go ahead try to find it. I dare you," I spit. She grins in defiance.

"A challenge, eh? I never turn down a challenge."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Hey! Sorry I haven't posted in a while, but I just have been so busy with homework, school, and sports that there wasn't much time to write. So to make up for it this is a longer chapter that I mostly wrote today. Like usual reviews please! Enjoy!**

* * *

The bright morning sunlight filters in through the royal blue tapestries that hang from the tall windows. I blink a few times to adjust to the light, and pull myself into a sitting position on the bed. I yawn, stretching my arms above my head and my legs beneath the blanket. I hop out of bed noticing that it is nearly eight o'clock, and I haven't completed my chores. Unfinished chores were equivalent to extra tutoring hours. I hurry over to my closet and slip on a cream colored dress that comes to about my forearm. It's adorned with lace at the bottom of the sleeve and along the neckline. I rush to the kitchen where the floor needs a desperate scrubbing.

"Good morning," a voice breathes into my ear. I jump in surprise, and spin around to see Nathaniel's bright face. I slap him on the arm.

"Good Lord, Nathaniel! Do not sneak up on me like that!" I scold. He laughs, but holds his finger up to his lips.

"Shhh…your father does not know of my presence. I snuck in through the kitchen window," he cautions. I stand on my tiptoes and give him a soft kiss on the lips. I pull away slowly, and give a mischievous grin.

"Well, then Mr. Thayer you must behave yourself with conditions such as these," I giggle, running my hand over the rough fabric coving his chest.

"Have these conditions ever stopped me before?" Nathaniel whispers, winking. He moves to kiss my lips, but I cover his mouth with my hand.

"Have you gotten the money together yet?" I release his mouth, letting my hand fall back down at my side. His face falls, and he shakes his head.

"I'm almost there, but I'm still one dollar short," he mumbles, kicking at the wood planks of the floor.

"Oh, but that will not be for another couple of weeks. Father might grow suspicious by then!" I protest. I take his hand into mine, and play with his fingers.

"I know, I know. I'm trying though. I can't get the tickets yet, but soon darling soon," Nathaniel hushes. He leans down to bring his lips to mine, but an awkward feeling enters the room.

"Ehemm…" Father clears his throat at the doorway of the kitchen. Nathaniel retracts, and rubs the back of his neck.

"Mr. Smith, sir, we did not realize your presence," he mutters, moving his eyes to the floor.

"I bet you didn't, nor did you realize that I purposely left that window open because I knew you would try to sneak in," Father reveals with a cheeky smile. I push back a loose strand of hair, and cross my other arm over my chest.

"Father you mustn't be so intrusive. Nathaniel and I wouldn't have to sneak around like this if you would just relax every now and then," I criticize. He turns his attention to me. Before he can scold me or go into his "holier than thou" speech, a knock sounds from the front door. Father rubs his face tiredly.

"Felicity, answer the door and please show Mr. Thayer out. We will discuss this later," he commands. I nod, nudging Nathaniel toward the open doorway of the kitchen. We stride across the parlor, the knocking becoming louder and more frequent.

"I'm sorry. I will meet you at seven o'clock by the harbor, yeah?" I whisper, intertwining his fingers with mine.

"I don't think that is such a good idea…" He trails off. He untangles his fingers from mine, and strides ahead of me. I contort my face in confusion, and catch the upper part of his arm.

"I'm sorry about my father. He just is…difficult sometimes," I apologize, bringing my hand to Nathaniel's face. He stumbles backwards and forces my hand back down to my side.

"No, he is right. We should not see each other. We are not meant to be. You are Christian and I am Jewish. It is not proper for us to marry," Nathaniel sighs.

"Do you think I care? If you have not noticed I am not a proper girl," I laugh, but his face remains serious.

"You should, though. This is not right by any moral means." I look down at the floor, not understanding where all this is coming from.

"So now you decide to do the "proper" thing? The noble thing? Do you not love me at all?" I stammer, trying to keep my voice from cracking.

"Of course I do. You know I do, but maybe that is not enough. I hate having to sneak around just to see you. I hate having to kiss you behind the old general store, afraid that our parents might see. Maybe this is God's sign that we are not meant to be together," Nathaniel continues. I draw closer to him, laying my head on his chest and wrapping my arms around his torso.

"I do not care what my father thinks and neither should you. I will always fight for you, even if it means losing my father," I murmur. He strokes my silky hair, and kisses me atop my head. Nathaniel grabs my shoulders and distances me from him.

"No, you belong to your father not me. Go to him now, and never seek me out again." He spins around and stalks toward the door. I stand dumbfounded in the middle of the room.

"No, you cannot make me," I defy.

"Of course I can't, but your father can," Nathaniel answers softly. I see the pain exploding like fireworks in his eyes. I step forward to run to him, but he holds a hand up. "Respect your fiancé like you would a husband, and leave me. I pray that you will find the happiness that you deserve. That you _and_ your father can find someone you both can love and respect unconditionally. Another fiancé that you can love like a husband, and your father can love like a son. Goodbye, Lissie," he bids. For the first time in a couple minutes we have noticed that incessant knocking has intensified, and is now accompanied with incomprehensible shouting.

"Get out," I state, nodding toward the door. He nods, but before he can pull the door open it comes flying inward at him. The thick wood comes tearing at him, and clips him across the face. The force knocks him backward toward the floor. Nathaniel is unconscious. Three men stand in the doorway, and I hold my breath. They don red coats lined with blue cloth and gold buttons, and gold designs adorn the cuffs of the sleeves. They stomp into the parlor, tracking in mud caused by the recent snowfall. My eyes shift from the redcoats to my wonderful Nathaniel lying hurt on the floor, and the anger in my heart flares viciously.

"You have no right to be here. You are trespassing on private property," I snap. The three men approach, malicious smirks on their faces.

"We have come for Mr. John Smith for treason against the mother country of England, and his majesty King George III. Now miss if you would be so kind as to tell us the whereabouts of Mr. Smith it would be most appreciated," one orders smoothly. I lick my lips, forcing myself not to look back toward the kitchen.

"What is this treason of which you speak?" I inquire.

"We have acquired information that Mr. Smith has been conspiring against England through pushing for a rebellion against the mother country, and participated in the dumping of British imports into the harbor last night. He is to be hanged for his disloyalties to the British government. Now where is Mr. Smith?" The second soldier demands. He fingers the shiny musket.

"I am sorry to tell you officer that he is not here. He fled Boston last night," I lie. The first soldier steps toward me so that only a foot separates us. He towers a foot above me, and casts his dark eyes down upon me.

"Don't lie, girl. If he really did flee Boston, why would he leave behind his children?" He points out. I hold my ground.

"Rose and I are not children. We are perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves," I retort. An evil grin sends my heart plummeting to my stomach. He brings his hand to my face, and strokes my cheek. I pull away. "Don't touch me," I spit. He laughs maniacally.

"Like you said you are not a child. You are a woman. A gorgeous, spirited, foul-mouthed young lady. Never was one for a sweet, quiet girl. I like feisty patriots," he drawls, snatching my wrist. I slap him across the cheek with my free hand.

"Hold your tongue." Anger erupts on his face as a red hand mark appears on his left cheek. He grabs my other wrist despite my hardest efforts to escape, and pulls me into a rough kiss. I fight hard to push him away, but his tight grip on my hair tugs painfully at my scalp. He breaks the kiss, but refuses to release me from his grasp. "Let go of me," I order in a dangerous whisper.

"Oh come now. This isn't even the best part," he murmurs, running his fingers along the neckline of my dress. I whimper at the thought of what will happen next, when a sudden slam of a door stops everyone in their tracks. Father comes rushing into the room his hands held up in the air.

"I heard you were looking for John Smith?" The soldier turns his attention away from me, and strides up to Father.

"Father, no. Please," I plead, running toward him. They begin to bind the rope around his hands, and I tear at the shoulders of the soldiers. "Leave him alone. Don't take him away. Take me," I beg, but they brush me aside.

"Lissie, calm down. Everything will be fine," he assures. No it will not be alright.

"Rose! Rose!" I scream, clawing at the soldiers' backs.

"Sir, if you do not get control of your daughter I will shoot you _and_ her," the third soldier bellows, leading Father toward the ajar front door.

"Felicity Isabella Natalia Smith, get a grip. Do not force them to kill you and me both. I will figure out something. I promise," Father barks.

"You say I lie to you all the time, but you lie to me more. You know that you have no way out of this. I know you are lying. I see it in your eyes. Why give up without a fight? You know I don't," I expose. I sprint over to the nearby closet, and seize his shotgun. I prepare it to fire, and aim it in the general direction of the soldiers. In turn they hold up their guns to me, but I do not budge. I do not dare falter. "No one moves or I shoot," I warn.

"Put it down or we will shoot you," the second soldier shouts. I let out an incredulous laugh.

"You shoot me we all die."

"You can only get off maybe one bullet, before you fall dead on your face. Not enough time to kill all of us," the first soldier chuckles at my "stupidity".

"Maybe, but my father is no fool. Ever since he heard you British burning down the homes of those who refuse you in any way, he created the perfect defense system. Notice how there are no lamp holders lining this room? That is because this room is highly flammable. In that chest right next to the door is full of gunpowder. Carefully packaged so that none of it escapes into the air, but one spark of fire near it can send the whole street aflame. So you shoot me, I shoot the chest, and we all go up," I explain, smirking.

"You're bluffing."

"Do you really want to risk it though?" I challenge. He bites the inside of his cheek, knowing he has no way out. Rose hurries into the room.

"What is going on here?" She questions, looking from each end of the room to the other.

"Justice," I snap.

"Felicity, don't do this. You can't do this," Rose stammers, approaching me cautiously.

"Yes I can. They have to let him go. They cannot refuse my demands," I insist.

"You know they can't let him go. You know they will die honorably just to say that they killed one of the biggest conspirators against the British government. You know your father will die either way," Rose replies quietly. I feel the tears rush down my cheeks.

"Give him to me!" I yell my voice cracking.

"We cannot do that, miss. He's a traitor, and after this you will be hanged right next to him," the second soldier states.

"You know you can't win either way. You and your father have committed treason, and will have to pay for it. There's no way out by going this route," she continues.

"I cannot win," I murmur in realization. There is no way I can use my wits to charm me out of this one. There are no loopholes that I can dance around. There is no way I can outfox anyone this time. I will lose everything. Everything. Rose, Father, Nathaniel, myself. All the things that mean most will be gone. "What do you mean this route?" I recall. Route means an alternative. Alternative could very well mean a way to get some of us out alive. _Alive_.

"Your fob watches. Open them," Rose urges. I roll my eyes.

"Rose, this is no fairytale. This is no worthless dream. Everything in those journals are just dreams. Everything I wrote in there is fiction. None of it is real. None of it _can_ be real," I snort. She shakes her head.

"You don't remember that's why it all seems fake, but those dreams are real. They are more than just dreams they are memories! They are memories that have been pushed back into your subconscious to make room for false ones. This whole life your living isn't real. You and your father are fictional. Your real name is Avani Genevieve, and your father isn't your real father. He is the Doctor. He adopted you when you were a baby. You and the Doctor are not from this world. You and the Doctor are Time Lords from the land of Gallifrey. You and the Doctor are the last of your kind. You are the lightning in the oncoming storm. The lonely goddess. The girl without a home. You are the protector of everything that is, everything that was, and everything that could ever be," she presses. The gun wavers in my hands.

"No. It is all impossible. It is all completely mad. _You_ are mad," I reason.

"No, it's all true. Believe me, Avani," Rose begs.

"I don't want all that. All I want is Father, Nathaniel, and you. That is all I want. I don't want to be protector of the universe. All I want is to get married and have children. I want to live here, and be human like everyone else. I don't want to be her. I don't want to be lonely," I sob.

"But if you do become her you can live, your father can live, I can live, and Nathaniel can live. We can all live if you just open this watch," Rose promises with a smile. Through the blurry tears I can see two gold, circular objects sitting in the palm of her hand.

"Stop this nonsense, girl. You belong in an asylum," the third guard roars, pointing the gun at Rose.

"Shut that hole in your face or I will shoot," I bellow. He stops talking, but keeps his gun trained on me. Every move I make all three of their guns follow. I turn back to Rose. I reach out and take the fob watches into my hand. "Okay, move aside so I can give my father his," I order, motioning to the right with the gun. The three soldiers move to the left with reluctance, leaving an open way to Father. I walk forward to his open palm, and drop a gold watch into his hand. I toss the gun to Rose. "If they try to pull anything, shoot them." She nods. I focus on the watch again. I finger the cool metal and intricate designs on the lid, wondering how such a contraption could alter my whole life.

"Are you ready?" Father inquires softly.

"On three," I breathe.

"One." _You are being foolish._

"Two."_ This is impossible._

"Three." _This has to work._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**Sorry I haven't posted in awhile, life's just been really crazy. School, field hockey, writing, I feel like my head's going to explode. Anyway this chapter is kinda boring because it's setting up for a better next couple chapters, so bare with me. You know the drill, review, review, review!**

I look out upon the stars suspended beautifully in the sky. Each twinkling light a fiery ball of energy, begging to be explored. I feel the gravitational pull of space inviting me to join the dark, star studded sky. The TARDIS spins in a slow circle, hanging in the middle of Earth and Venus while everyone sleeps. Well, everyone except me. I finger the gold, diamond ring, turning it over and over in my palm. I'm in denial. I can't be engaged. What would I tell Nathaniel? I'm sorry, I just realized that I'm too young to marry you. Impossible. His heart will break in two. He loves me so, but I don't love him. I _can't _love him. Not after Jack.

"What are you doing up this late," a voice asks. It breaks into my thoughts and I shake my head, clearing away the shattered ideas.

"Couldn't sleep," I reply. I lean back against the door frame of the TARDIS.

"Neither can I. Thought I could do some work on her while everyone slept. Nathaniel is still unconscious, but he'll be fine," the Doctor states. I nod. "May I?" He inquires, motioning to sit down next to me.

"Go ahead." He takes a place right next to me, and looks out the open door into space.

"Pretty magnificent isn't it?"

"Yeah. I thought it might help me clear my thoughts," I confess, following his gaze.

"Oh, about…?" He trails off, awkwardly clearing his throat.

"Yeah. I don't know what do to," I murmur. He still stares toward the stars and shakes his head.

"Neither do I."

"Well, tell me _something_ helpful. I'm freaking _engaged_!" I exclaim.

"What do you want me to say? I. Don't. Know," the Doctor snaps.

"Mom would," I whisper bitterly. He rubs his face. "But I'm stuck with _you_."

"Ava, _I'm trying_," he defends.

"Yeah, well you're not trying hard enough."

"You don't think I miss her too?" I open my mouth to shoot back a biting remark, but I pause, looking down at the ring clenched in my fist.

"It's not the same, though. I'm _technically_ not yours, and you know it too. I'm no one's. I belong nowhere. I fit nowhere," I mutter. He sighs.

"Everything belongs somewhere. It's only logical."

"Screw logic. Face it, we don't belong anywhere. All we do is run away. Run away from all the problems that follow our tread throughout time. It will never stop. No one wants us. No one appreciates us. Mom would know what to do. She always knew the right things," I state bluntly. He snaps his head away, and looks toward the console of the TARDIS.

"No, everything in this universe belongs somewhere. It's like a puzzle; each piece has to fit somewhere. Everything has a cause. Everything has an explanation. Everything has to make sense," he rebuttals. The Doctor looks down at his uncontrollably fidgeting fingers. "Everything has to make sense…" he whispers to himself over and over. God, he sounds like a broken record. "Her death has to make sense." My hard facial expressions soften to pity.

"Everything has to die," I answer. The Doctor looks over at me, his face firm with years of war and bloodshed.

"Not like that. Never like that. I should have been there…I could have saved her. She could have been alive…" The Doctor reminisces that painful night. With each word and syllable his tone grows colder, and more hateful. It's usually calm, low resonation is overtaken with a sharp, vindictive tone. A tone seeking revenge.

"It wasn't your fault," I insist in a soft, cautious voice. He springs up from the floor, and stalks off toward his room.

"Everything is my fault," the Doctor mumbles, his voice on the edge of irate tears. After he is gone, I pull at my messy, auburn hair and give a muffled shriek. Why do I do everything wrong? Why am I so quick to blame others for my own mistakes? I am just so _confused_. I can't think, I can't sleep, I can't eat, all I can think about is this engagement. And now I'm taking all my frustrations out on the man that has stuck by my side since the beginning. I'm blaming him for all my screw ups, and throwing his back in his face like I'm a saint. I need a muzzle. And the best part is I'm _still _hopelessly confused.

* * *

"This-this is mad, ludicrous! This cannot be real! You are all completely insane!" Nathaniel exclaims, pacing the high-tech infirmary. I shove my hands into the back pockets of my jeans, and meander slowly over to him.

"I know, I know, but you've got to believe us. It's all very complicated and very confusing, but you'll understand in time," I calm. He runs his fingers through his wavy, dark brown hair, dark circles hanging heavy below his eyes. His blue button-down shirt is severely wrinkled, and the first three buttons remain undone, contrary to his usually conservative look. His old-fashioned suspenders dangle against his brown trousers, and the youth and excitement in his brown eyes has fled. His eyes now only show confusion and fright.

"And you. What are you wearing, Felicity?" He questions with repulsion. A sudden realization comes over me, and I wince at the thought of telling him the truth. I exhale, and rake my fingers through the messy waves in reluctance.

"About that…my name is Avani, but you can call me A-"

"Felicity's not you real name? But why wou-"

"No, it's a long story. I really long complicated story that I don't feel like explaining right now. I'll tell you later, but like as I was saying you can call me Ava or whatever you like really," I continue. He shakes his head.

"No, I want the whole truth now. You owe me at least that," Nathaniel refuses. I lick my lips and nod. He is right. After all this the one thing he deserves is the right to have the truth laid out before him. To decide if he would like to follow the love of his life, or return to the home that he had loved so dearly.

"This is the TARDIS. Time and Relative Dimension in Space, yes that means it is a spaceship. John Smith here is the Doctor, and no he is just the Doctor. I'm Avani Genevieve, and he and I are not human. We are Time Lords from the planet Gallifrey. We are the last of our kind. Our species were wiped out in The Last Great Time War with the Daleks, another alien race. We are the only survivors. Our planet was destroyed in the war, and we can never go back to save our planet and people. It's impossible. Anyway the TARDIS travels throughout time and space. It can reach the farthest galaxies, and can travel from the beginning of the earth to billions of years beyond its destruction. The Doctor, Rose, and I travel the stars, keeping order and balance between all races. We are the protectors of the universe. While you sleep soundly in your bed, we are out saving the earth from total demolition. Now it is up to you, we can take you back to Boston 1773 or you can travel the stars with us. It's up to you," I clarify, crossing my arms. His eyes widen in shock, and he sucks in a deep breath.

"Travel the stars, battle alien species, save the universe?"

"All day every day," I answer with a smile. He smirks, arching one eyebrow.

"Then how could I refuse?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**I AM SO SORRY I HAVEN'T POSTED IN AWHILE! :( I've just been so busy, and I also ran into a point where I didn't want to write this anymore because I lost interest in it. So I finally got moving and finished this chapter. I really hope that you guys understand :/ Anyway reviews are great because honestly that's what keeps me going. Knowing that you guys like it gets me through all the annoying nights that I keep checking my facebook because I have horrible writer's block. So review, review, review, and without further ado chapter 5! :D**

* * *

"So what is this place exactly?" Nathaniel questions, peering around at the wide marketplace set before us.

"Earth in 4693. Pretty great, huh?" I respond with an excited grin. His mouth gapes at the hundreds upon hundreds of high-quality metal stands.

"Yeah, kind of. I just- I just…" he stammers before running over to the nearest trash can. Nathaniel becomes violently ill, coughing up every last crumb of toast he ate for breakfast. Rose sprints over and rubs his back as he continues to gag noisily. He head emerges from the trash can, his face extremely pale and nervous looking.

"And this is the human you fell in love with?" The Doctor mutters under his breath. I elbow him in the ribs, and my face blushes a light scarlet.

"Knock it off. Not everyone is as easily adapted as Rose you know," I scold as Rose and Nathaniel return. He jams his fists in his pockets bashfully, and stares at the floor with embarrassment.

"Are you okay?" I ask trying to gain his eye contact. He shrugs his shoulders and mumbles,

"I'm fine. Can we just move on?" I am taken aback by his slight bluntness and nod.

"Yeah, sure. Come on let's shop!" I exclaim summoning everyone to follow. Rose and Nathaniel join me at my side, while the Doctor remains standing at the entrance. He pushes his dorky glasses up the bridge of his nose, and squints trying to make out something in the distance.

"You guys go have fun, I'm going to track down…you know…something," the Doctor states absentmindedly. He lunges forward to take off toward the source of his interest, but I catch his arm.

"Can you please forget whatever is circulating that thick head of yours? This is supposed to be a fun and _relaxing _day," I sigh. The Doctor lays my arm back down at my side.

"Go on relax, I'll just be checking out that stand over there. There's something interesting about it," he clarifies, pushing me in the opposite direction.

"Fine. Go play with your little screwdriver, and investigate to your heart's content. Just please, please, please be careful. I don't feel like bailing you out of a world domination scheme," I reply.

"Oh shut it," he grumbles taking off in the opposite direction. I laugh, pushing back the hair hanging heavy over my left eye. I turn back to Rose and Nathaniel and beam.

"Shall we?"

* * *

*Nathaniel's Point of View*

_Her smile explodes onto her lips with such utter joy that makes my heart skip a beat. Her eyes glisten with youth and mischief, yet behind the twinkle they are dull with years of heartbreak and anguish. Her confident walk commands the room, and her irresistible charm captivates half the men she crosses. The moon and stars sparkle upon her with such envious rays knowing that they could never outshine her. Waves cascade down her shoulders, glimmering a rare and stunning deep red, much deeper than even the darkest blood. Her skin is pale as porcelain and pure as fresh daisies, while her pink, plump lips are victim to her cute, constant lip-biting. My angelic temptress. My devilish angel. My sinful dove. My corrupt goddess. My love. My Avani. _

"Are you alright, love? You are looking a little down," A woman plump woman asks from behind a stand. I look longingly over at Ava as she and Rose peruse a stand with gorgeous shoes made of the universe's most precious gems. I feel a small smile spread across my lips at Ava's childish squeals as she picks up a pair of sparkling, dark, wine-colored heels. Her eyes soon dart from the expensive shoes up to me. Her beaming face plummets and turns to one of discomfort. Ava's eyes fall back down to the four-inch heels, and she stares at them as if I am invisible. I glance back at the hefty woman with brown, beady eyes gazing back with a smile.

"Yeah, just peachy," I sigh, shoving my hands deep into my pockets. Her smile merges into a frown.

"You're in love with her aren't you?" She inquires tapping her sausage fingers against the metal stand. I snort, and cross my arms defensively across my chest.

"Yeah, so?"

"She doesn't love you back, right?" I shift my weight from foot to foot, my brows furrowing in annoyance.

"You're quite perceptive aren't you?" I scoff, my blue eyes narrowing.

"No, you're just an open book my love. Now if you want I can help you," the woman replies with a thick Scottish accent. My eyes soften, and I lick my lips with anticipation.

"How so?" I ask trying to keep the hopefulness from leaking into my tone. The woman struggles, but eventually bends down to retrieve a tray of assorted bottles and flasks of all different shapes and sizes. She sets the silver tray before me, and grins.

"Tonics, some would call them potions, but I prefer tonics. Anyway I have just what you need, a love tonic. One drop of this in her drink will make her instantly fall in love with the first man she sees. She will be following you around like a lovesick puppy and there are no side effects whatsoever," the woman explains holding up a glass bottle with a narrow top that rounds out to a sphere at the bottom. A sparkly, gold liquid swirls around in the flask, sealed by a dark brown cork. I finger the bottle, a deep bang of desire bubbling from the inner depths of my core.

"How much?" I question.

"Only 350 coins," the woman states, sweat dripping down her pudgy cheeks in the expectance of a sale. Her unflattering forest green dress is damp with perspiration under the arms, and her awful body odor chokes me. I delve into my pockets and retrieve the money Ava gave me prior to shopping. I slap it down on the counter.

"Here you go, love. Go get her," she responds with a wink. The woman hands me the bottle, and I begin to walk toward Rose and Ava. I slip it into my back pocket, a feeling of excitement vibrating in my bones and muscles. _My beautiful siren._ _My love. My fiancé. My Mrs. Thayer. _


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**I know I haven't posted in months, but I got bored with this story. But I am happy to say that the previous episode of Doctor Who inspired me to start writing this again. I hope you guys didn't give up on me. Well even though I don't deserve it after I sorta abandoned this story, PLEASE forgive me and review! So glad to be back(:**

*Still Nathaniel's Point of View*

"Dinner's ready!" Rose yells from the kitchen. Ava sprints sliding into the room on her fuzzy socks. The Doctor follows behind, but instead ninja rolls into the sweet smelling kitchen.

"Show off," Ava complains, sticking her tongue out. A warm homemade pizza sits on the table. The steam radiates off the melted cheese, and the pepperoni sizzles with grease. I wave the aroma toward my nose taking in its delicious smell.

"We never had anything like this at home," I sigh, as Rose cuts the pizza up into eight equal slices.

"Well, dig in then!" Rose laughs, handing me two pieces on a thin paper plate. The Doctor takes a large bite of his, but instantly starts gagging. He forces the pizza down, and shakes his head.

"Blimey, it's hot. Ava, get me a glass of water, will you?" Ava grabs four glasses from the cabinet and fills all of them up with water. She sets them around the table, before going back to the counter to get napkins. While Rose and the Doctor are too busy flirting, I pull the flask with the love tonic from my pocket. I tip the bottle ever so slightly as to drop only a few drops, before replacing the cork and returning it to my pocket. The gold tonic swirls in the water for a few seconds, but becomes undetectable by the time they all sit down at the table. I dig in to my pizza that is set before me, trying to keep calm and inconspicuous. I had strategically placed myself across the table from Ava so when she took a sip of her water, I would be the first man she sees. My stomach churns, making it hard for me to stomach the pizza. _Just one sip…that's all it takes. Just one sip, and she'll love me again. _Finally after an agonizing wait, she takes a long sip of water. I hold my breath, but as I am about to say her name for good measure, something does not go according to plan. My stomach flips in my abdomen. My heart stops beating. _The Doctor catches her attention._

"So did you finish the paper that I assigned last night?" She turns to him, and I see a gold sparkle flash before her eyes. Her once slightly annoyed look is replaced by one of adoration. I feel as if I'm going to be sick. She leans her head on her hand as she gazes at him longingly.

"No, not yet. I'll finish it tonight, I promise," she sighs, almost too sweetly. Surprised by her seemingly willing demeanor, he smiles.

"Really? No hormonal teenage backtalk?" The Doctor asks. She shakes her head. He grins even wider. "Good."

* * *

*Ava's POV*

_Okay, you can do this. _I stand in front of the door to his bedroom. I run my hands over the short, curve-hugging, black dress I found in my closet, and rub the pink lip gloss onto my lips again. I push back the auburn waves that hang in my eyes and steady the six-inch, red, stiletto heels that I paired the dress with. I fidget with the paper in my hands, before mustering up the courage to knock on the door. The door swings open, and the Doctor stands there still in his suit and tie even though it's eleven o'clock at night.

"Hey, sweetheart! Ah I see you have that paper finished for me! I'll grade it tonight. Wait…why are you dressed up? Are you with Nathaniel because I explicitly told you…" he says strictly. My heart practically melts when he calls me "sweetheart". He pulls the paper from my hands.

"I'm not interested in Nathaniel, Doctor. You should know that…" I interrupt. The look of anger disappears, and he smiles again.

"Well then, if you want to pop in for a bit, I'm working on a study of recessive mutations in Sycorax, Plasmavores, and Homo Sapiens," the Doctor offers, pulling the door open further. Even though I have been in the TARDIS for some time now, I have never been in the Doctor's room. It was considered one of my many "off-limits" areas. Usually I would ignore him and explore them anyway, but his room was different. More personal, I guess you could say. The Doctor has many secrets, but this one I wasn't going to go prodding about. I hesitantly follow him into the room where the lights are dimmed to an eerie blue glow. My mouth gapes in awe at the dark blue walls and suspended hologram on the ceiling. The whole universe, every last star, moon, and planet is illuminated above my head. The walls are littered with blueprints, diagrams, and maps of everything you can imagine. A king-sized bed lays against the wall on the left side with clean, white sheets. The bed is perfectly made, showing that it is not used very often. He leads me over to a large white table covered with papers, microscope slides, three calculators, three microscopes, three pens, and a pair of glasses. The Doctor places the glasses on his face and continues with his work.

"I have been looking into mutations of the Mitochondrial DNA in human cells and trying to find similar mutations in the cells of Sycorax and Plasmavores. It really is fascinating how the damaged DNA of each species are so alike. Also, did you know that the Mitochondrial DNA of Homo Sapiens is passed down through the mother because the egg destroys the sperm's mitochondria? But funnily enough the opposite is true in Sycorax and Plasmavores. Their Mitochondrial DNA is inherited through the father. Look here, this cell has Culocraniosomatic Neuromuscular Disease. The proteins are impaired resulting in-" the Doctor explains, babbling on and on. He rushes from microscope to microscope pointing out the abnormalities and then scribbling some numbers and words on a couple pieces of paper.

"Hey, do you think we could just relax for a second," I sigh, rubbing his arm and batting my eyelashes. He reluctantly pauses, but nods.

"Um, sure…is something wrong, Ava?" He asks with concern. I flip my hair back and lean in close to his ear.

"I haven't been feeling well lately," I whisper, pausing, "I think I need a doctor."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**This is an awesome chapter. Things get a little steamy(: Reviews por favor!**

*The Doctor's POV*

Warning bells go off in my mind. I stumble backward a few steps, distancing myself from Ava.

"Well…I'll fire up the TARDIS. We'll take you to…the…uh…" I promise, trailing off as she approaches me. She runs her hand down my chest with a smirk.

"I was thinking something more…local…" Ava says, slowly untying my tie. _Dangerous waters, Doctor, dangerous waters_. I give a nervous laugh.

"Well, I was just going to take you to Earth. I mean that's…pretty…local…did you know that humans won't develop half the technology of the universe until thousands of years after everyone else? Also, they have one of the most primitive medical knowledge of the galaxy. It's fascinating really. Apparently they-" I reply quickly. Ava places a finger over my lips, silencing my prattling.

"Shhh…I want you to do me a favor," she whispers, swinging the tie around seductively. I gulp, perspiration forming on my brow. I lick my lips anxiously.

"Well, what would that be? Get a new tie?" I laugh, trying to keep the mood lighthearted and fun. Without warning she grabs the collar of my suit jacket and pulls me so that her face is inches from mine. _Oh, no. Bad, very, very, very bad. _

"Show me the stars you clever boy," Ava answers. Before I can escape her grasp, she hops into my arms, straddling her legs around my torso. Not wanting to drop her and possibly hurt her I oblige and hold her up. Ava yanks my head into a rough kiss, her yearning lips latching onto my reluctant ones. She tousles my hair with her hands, while she bombards my mouth with her abusive tongue. _Oh my God this is wrong. This is so wrong. _Between breaks I manage to mumble out the words,

"Ava, stop. This is wrong. What is wrong with you?" She ignores my warnings for her to stop, but continues. It is only now that I spot the sonic gun wedged under her dress and strapped to her thigh. _I can't resist her at the risk of being killed… _I wrack my brain for the location of my sonic screwdriver, hoping that maybe I can disable the weapon and get out of this mess. My hearts sink. _My sonic screwdriver is on the table…_

"The bed," Ava mutters through our lip smacking. Each time her tongue explores my mouth or compels mine to, my stomach lurches with disgust. I force back the vomit that threatens to come spewing out of my mouth. _I have to find a way out._ _This is my daughter._ _Something is clearly wrong. _I unwillingly carry her to my bed, where she continues to straddle me while I sit on the edge. Ava retracts her tongue for once and pulls back out of the series of passionate kisses. "Come on. You mustn't be so shy. Take off my dress," she demands, while she begins to unbutton my suit jacket. The temperature of the room soars, but I shake my head.

"Ava, what's wrong? This isn't appropriate…this isn't…sexy. This is gross! What happened? Who did this to you?" I question, squirming away from her hands. I back up to the headboard of the bed. She smirks, kicks off her heels, and crawls to me like a lioness hunting a baby gazelle.

"That's right you're sexy. I love you, Doctor. You're my everything. I just want you so bad," Ava confesses, her eyes flaming with lust. My stomach churns.

"Please stop. Rose! Rose! I need help! Rose, help me!" She sits down on my squirming legs to settle them and lays a finger over my mouth.

"No, need to scream. I don't bite…not hard at least," Ava giggles, but still in a seductive tone. She brings my hands to her chest. Her hands begin to climb up my thighs as she kisses my neck. She moves along my jawline, brushing her plump lips against my sensitive flesh. Shivers course through my spine. Her hands travel further up my thighs until she eventually reaches the buckle of my belt. _Find a way out of this. _Ava fumbles with the button of my trousers and pulls down the zipper. I continue to struggle against her will. She nibbles at my earlobe, and I once again try screaming for Rose. No such luck… Ava pulls my pants down to my mid-thigh when she grabs my hands and forces me to start working on the zipper of her dress. I manage to resist, but she eventually caves in and takes it off herself. My stomach leaps into my throat. Ava dons a black lacy bra that accentuates her…uh…chest and the matching black lace panties.

"Ava, please listen to me," I plead as she slides my shirt off completely. Now my boxers only remain. She lowers herself onto me, continuing to suck on my neck and jam her tongue down my throat.

"Oh, Doctor," she moans, nipping at my ear. I feel the vomit swirling in my stomach. Then an idea strikes me. As much as it pains me, I force my flailing arms to settle and to start rubbing her thighs. I give in to the kissing and pretend that I enjoy it.

"That's it. Ease up, Doctor. Relax," she mumbles through the sucking of my bottom lip. I slowly, but discreetly move my hands more inward toward her thighs under the false assumption that I'm going to take it to the next level. I keep sliding my hands down inch by inch, until I grasp the sonic gun. I yank it out of its halter and point it at her chest. Just in time too, for her hands were beginning to make a trip down my boxers

"Get. Off. Of. Me," I bellow, jabbing the tip into her chest. Ava backs away, her face completely in shock. She holds up her hands in defeat as she backs up off the bed. I continue to point the gun at her as I bend down and hand Ava her dress. "Put this back on," I say gently so I don't scare her. Ava resigns to sliding the skimpy black piece of fabric on, but it's now I notice tears welling up in her eyes. Both my hearts ache for her because I know something is terribly wrong for her to want to do…uh…"it" with me… "Ava, don't cry," I whisper, dropping the sonic gun down to my side. I reach to brush her tears away, but she retracts. Ava wipes the saltwater away with the back of her hands.

"Don't touch me…I thought you loved me…" she cries into her hands. My hearts flip in my chest.

"I do love you, but not like that. You're my daughter…I don't think any part of you is sexy. I think you're cute. You're my little girl. There is something wrong, sweetheart, and I'm going to figure out what," I say gingerly. She stamps her foot on the ground with fury.

"Why do you keep saying that? I'm not your little girl. I love you, Doctor. I love you more than anything in this universe. Just take me. Take all of me," Ava pleads, tugging at the waistband of my boxers. I squirm away.

"See this is wrong. This would be considered incest," I deny. I grab her wrist and drag her over to the white table. I snatch my sonic screwdriver from the rubbish and adjust the settings. I cast the blue light over her entire body, observing the instrument's readings. My blood boils and my face becomes hot with rage. _A love tonic._ My hands shake as I grab her arm. I struggle to keep my grip relaxed and my tone pleasant.

"Come on, darling. We are going to pay a visit to Nathaniel," I bellow, yanking her behind me. I jerk her along, blood coursing through my body faster than ever before.

"Doctor, you're hurting me," Ava wails. I ignore her complaints, only focusing on my mission.

"Oh…I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill him…" I mutter, my eye twitching repeatedly. We wind in and out of the hallways of the TARDIS until we finally reach Nathaniel's room. I bang on the door with Ava bawling behind me. The door hesitantly opens a crack, and he peeks out. Not bothering to wait for him to man up and face me head on, I kick the door open all the way. He can barely get out a syllable before my fist rushes to meet his nose.


End file.
